No Doubts About It
by Stardust16
Summary: Peter's hands loosely claw at his throat, which is now oddly beginning to feel like it's being constricted. There's a tightness in his chest, in his lungs, and it feels bad, awful even, but he still tries his best to explain it to Ned. "C'n't bre'the," he squeaks. (Set after FFH. Rated T for swearing.)


**Happy Halloween, everyone!**

**This is a fic I've written for Brentinator ('cause she did want to write a Halloween fic, but had to deal w/ other stuff), so I really hope she likes it! Brentinator, you're the best person ever, and I'm glad to have you as a friend. :)**

**Also, this has a lot of swearing in it. You won't see one every five seconds, but there is a lot in it. If you're not comfortable w/ that stuff, I recommend you turn back now.**

**Otherwise, enjoy!**

* * *

It's just after midnight when he senses something is wrong.

"Ned," Peter breathes, as he shoves his best friend's shoulder. It's Halloween night, and the push probably hurts, considering Peter has super strength and sometimes can't control it, but the superhero doesn't care about that right now. His stomach is filled with fire, and it's gonna burn him alive from the inside out.

"Ned," the superhero calls again, but there's no answer. Sitting himself up slowly, to prevent the nausea from progressing further, the teen winces before crawling over to his friend. Why did he insist on them sleeping so far apart?

"Ned!" The boy yells for a third time, and, at this, Ned's eyes finally snap open. It takes a while, but his eyes finally adjust to the darkness, and Ned sits up to turn on the light beside him.

"Peter?" He says, once it's turned on. "What—?"

Peter's got a hand over his mouth now, and an arm around his stomach, and is swallowing convulsively as he stares pleadingly at the teen across from him. "Bucket," he whimpers. "Please, Ned. Gonna be sick."

And Ned, because he's such a good friend and has known Peter for years, stands up from his sleeping bag, and drags the boy over to the kitchen sink, just before all hell breaks loose.

Peter, he knows this himself, hasn't puked in eight months now, and, the last time he did, it was because he came down with a fever three weeks after Tony's funeral. That time, it was due to a cold. That time, it was due to something normal. But, this time, it feels like it's due to something different.

But, he doesn't have anymore time to think about it, and certainly can't tell Ned as much, before vomit washes upon his tongue and triggers a gag. Closing his eyes, he hears Ned turn on the faucet, and feels a hand pat his back, as he gags again, and brings up stomach acid and candy.

"You okay?" He hears from beside him, and the teen immediately brings himself to nod his head "yes," even though he knows he's not. He doesn't want to concern Ned, though, and May's in the other room, sleeping deeply, so he can't really wake her up.

Ned's still standing there silently, though, like he's waiting for a verbal confirmation, so Peter opens his eyes, wipes his mouth with a paper towel, and looks over in his direction. "Yeah," he replies. "I'm fine."

* * *

Peter is decidedly Not Fine.

It's a little over one o'clock, and he has thrown up three more times in the past hour. He thought the nausea would've gone away by now, but it hasn't, so he's lying on the couch, with a wet washcloth on his forehead, and a heating pad wrapped around his middle.

"I'm not telling May," he tells his best friend, again. "She has work tomorrow, Ned. I can't wake her up."

Ned purses his lips and stares at the teen, trying to whether this is intentional, or whether Peter just wants to be lying on his deathbed. Then, he speaks.

"I don't know," he says, slowly. "I think this is serious, Peter. I think we need an adult."

Peter closes his eyes, as he huffs out a response. "We are adults."

"We're sixteen, Peter."

"So? That's just, like, two years away from legally being an adult!"

"Fine, then let me rephrase: we need a person who can actually help us, and is over the age of twenty-fucking-five!"

"Ned, no—"

"Ned, yes—"

"I can't wake May," the superhero states, his breath catching now. He still feels gross, and disgusting, like he's gonna throw up, but he can't, and now tears are starting to form, and a headache is building behind his eyes. "She has work tomorrow, and she needs the sleep. I can't do that to her, Ned, I can't. Not when we need the money."

Ned has a sad expression on his face, and looks like he wants to say something, but he nods nonetheless. "Fine," he agrees, as he takes the washcloth off the superhero's head and re-wets it, before setting it back on him again. "But, I'm not falling asleep until you do."

* * *

Ned falls sleep first, and it's within fifteen minutes.

Peter can't really blame him, to be honest. They stayed up all night eating sugar and carbs, and watching bad horror movies, and while Peter may be used to staying up late, and may be a night owl, Ned's not. He's an early bird, who gets up early, and does his homework, and makes it to school on time, and, usually, Peter would appreciate that, but this time he doesn't. Instead, all he wants is someone to be staying up with him, as he fights through the headaches, nausea, and vomiting.

Pushing the blankets off his body, the teenager turns off the heating pad, and throws it to the side, before sitting up straight. There's no use to doing it slowly now, as it doesn't do anything, so he does it as fast as he can, and nudges his friend's foot with his own. "Ned," he calls out, hurriedly. "Ned, man, wake up!"

In an instant, Ned's eyes fly open, thanks to him learning his lesson from earlier. "Peter?" He asks, upon seeing the teen's pale face. "What's wrong? What's happening, man?"

Peter's hands loosely claw at this throat, which is now oddly beginning to feel like it's being constricted. There's a tightness in his chest, in his lungs, and it feels bad, awful even, but he still tries his best to explain it to Ned.

"C'n't bre'the," he squeaks.

Ned's eyes widen, and he swears loudly. "Fuck, where's your epipen?!"

Peter shakes his head as a way to say "no," since it's a struggle to verbally express it. "Not pe'nuts," he wheezes. "Or-Or—Organized the—the c'ndy. Didn't h've 'ny."

"What about your inhaler?" Ned questions. "Your asthma, do you still have that?"

Peter just gasps, his vision spinning and his head pounding now. His heart's beating faster and faster with each moment that passes, and his chest is starting to burn, and throb, and he just wants it to _stop_. He doesn't know what's_ going on_.

"Peter?!" Ned repeats, watching worriedly as his friend's eyes glaze over. Just a moment ago, they were panicked and wild, but now they're just blank, and empty, and expressionless, and freaking Ned the fuck out.

Then, with a terrible, gut-wrenching gasp, Peter's eyes roll back into his head, and the teen starts to seize.

And, honestly? _'Fuck this shit,' _Ned thinks, as he literally spins on his heels, and runs to wake May.

* * *

"May!" Ned yells, as he runs into the room to wake the woman. Everything's well decorated, from the bookshelves to the blankets, and, though they aren't expensive, Ned knows they hold some sort of sentimental value, so he feels bad for ripping the sheets off of the woman, but he figures he can apologize later.

"May!" He screams again, and the woman's eyes finally flutter open. Almost instantly, she's sitting up, scrambling out of bed, and turning on her nightstand lamp, as she tries to comfort the teenager in front of her.

"Ned." She speaks quietly, as she brushes his tears away from his face. "What happened?"

"It's Pe—eter." He can hardly get the words out, with the tears and the fact that his body's shaking with sobs. "He—He—He's seizing."

"_Shit_." At this, May's face grows worried with a frown, and she slips on a pair of slippers, before dashing into the living room. Ned's right behind her, following along, but does differently and stops short in front of Peter, instead of kneeling beside him.

"It's not an allergic reaction," he informs May, as she turns to look at him, panicked. "I—We organized all the candy, May, I swear. I made sure of it."

"What about—"

"I already asked when he woke me up, he said it wasn't asthma. And, even if it is, his inhaler's expired—"

"And he already has his appendix out," May states. Her hands are hovering over Peter, and he's stopped seizing by now, but she still doesn't know what to do or how to help him, so she figures treating the recently-received gash on his forehead is a good place to start. "Okay, um... call Happy," she instructs, as she grabs the blanket Peter was previously using, and presses it against his head. "Tell him Peter's sick. There's a hospital, I think, one just for superheroes, tell him that we need to be taken there, or that we need somebody who has access to it. I don't want to be waiting for any longer than I have to, you understand?"

Ned nods and runs to the landline nearby, while May removes Peter's medical identification necklace, and watch, along with any other tightened clothing, and places it on the coffee table beside the two. Ned's not really sure how it helps, but supposes it doesn't matter, as Happy's voice comes over the other side of the line.

"Hello? Who is this?" His voice sounds groggy, like he's just woken from sleep, and Ned wants to tell the man to go back to bed, that he feels bad for waking him, even though he knows he probably shouldn't. This is an emergency, after all.

"Happy," he breathes. "It's me—"

"Ned?!" The man asks, sounding exasperated now. "What? Why are you calling me? It's one in the morning, shouldn't you and Peter be asleep?"

"That's the thing," Ned says, desperately, as he momentarily casts a glance over to the aunt and nephew duo. Peter's still not awake, and his breathing is still laboured, and still uneven, and it makes Ned worry. "Peter, he—he can't _breathe_, Happy, _please_."

"Shit," the man swears loudly. There's a rustling over the phone, and Ned assumes he's getting his shoes on, before he speaks again. "Okay, I'm gonna send an ambulance to you guys, alright? There's this hospital Pepper built down in Fresh Meadows—it's a secret one, it's supposed to be for in case anything like this ever happened, since we don't have the compound or tower. It has top of the line security, so you guys and Peter'll be safe and be able to avoid any reporters."

"Okay." Ned nods. "And, will you—"

"I'm gonna give Cho a call, maybe Banner, and see if they can get down there. Otherwise, just wait for the ambulance, and don't move Peter, but try to keep him comfortable, trying to keep him breathing. I'll see you guys in five, ten minutes _max_."

Taking a deep breath, Ned tries to calm down, and suddenly feels immensely grateful that Peter still has people like Happy, Rhodey, and Pepper with him. "Thank you," he tells the forehead of security, his voice cracking.

Happy smiles and nods, even though he knows Ned can't see it. "No problem, kid."

* * *

"I'm going to be completely honest," Helen says, as she bursts through the doors of the hospital's private waiting room. In an instant, May, Ned, and even Happy are on their feet, are in their pyjamas, staring at her expectantly, and Ned's never felt more nervous in his life. Not even when Mysterio tried to kill them, when they were vacationing in London. "It's not looking good," she says, slowly.

Ned's stressed, and tired, and sleep deprived. He's been woken up twice tonight, once at twelve-ten, and once at one-thirty, and he loves these doctors, he does, but he also just wants to get to the bottom of what's going on.

"Why?" He demands, before May or Happy can. In response, all three heads turn to look at him, but he can't bring himself to feel embarrassed. He doesn't have the energy to. "What's wrong with him?"

"We're not sure," Helen states, and Ned immediately holds back a groan of annoyance. "But, we're doing an x-ray, and an ECG, we think there's a chance that it may be poison."

"Poison?!" May gasps, eyes wide. "What?! How?!"

"The Halloween candy," Ned realizes, as Happy repeats the words, confused, beside him. "He—We went trick or treating tonight. That has to be it, he didn't eat anything else."

Helen nods, and hurriedly types something on her tablet, but Happy's still stuck on the first part of the sentence. "You guys still go trick or treating?" he asks.

Ned nods. "We made a bet to see who could collect the most candy," he explains.

May and Helen stare at the two, taken aback, but quickly return to the matter at hand. "_Anyway_," the doctor emphasizes. "If this _is_ poison, and I think it _is_, then Peter's gonna have to have his stomach pumped."

"But I thought that could only be done within an hour?" Ned questions. As a result, everyone turns to look at him, again, but May looks the most gravelled. 'Probably because she's the only one of us who works in a hospital,' Ned thinks to himself. "What?" He shrugs. "I know stuff."

Helen looks impressed and has a spark of something in her eye, before it disappears and she answers his question. "Usually, yes," she answers. She still looks somewhat proud of him, but less so now. "But, there have been recent studies, and they do show that gastric lavage has been able to work, after the original hour has passed, so we're going to try it anyways. It's the best chance we have of getting it out of his system."

"And then he'll be okay?" May asks, her eyes clouded with fear and concern. Her arms are crossed, with one of her hands softly tugging on her sleeve, but that wasn't because she was cold, rather than worried. "He'll be fine, he'll be alright?"

Helen nods, her voice truthful. "From what I can tell," she says. "We'll have to put him under for the procedure, and give him activated charcoal, but otherwise he should be totally okay."

"However," she continues, casting a glance at the teenager across from her, "I do want you to get checked out, too, Ned. You and Peter went trick or treating, and went to the same houses, so I assume that means you got the same candy. I want to make sure there wasn't any poison in yours."

Ned, though, holds back. He knows it's logical and, in terms of medical stuff, it's always better to act on facts, rather than feelings, but, still; he has a job to do, he can't leave Peter.

Fortunately, Happy seems to sense this, and places a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Go," he urges. "We'll let you know if anything changes, Ned."

And Ned, because he's such a good friend, and has known Peter for years, and won't leave until he's sure, until he's reassured, he stares at the six feet tall bodyguard, with his big brown eyes, and asks "Promise?"

And, Happy knows that's it's not good to make promises, because there's always a chance they will fail, but he says "yes," anyway, and watches as Ned goes with Helen, and leaves his best friend, his _brother_, alone for the first time that night.

* * *

"So, you two are really doctors?" Ned asks, as he rises an eyebrow in suspicion. Helen has ordered a simple blood test for him, saying that she didn't think anything was wrong, but, if there was, it'd show up in his blood, and Ned's sure that it'd gone well. But, he's also sure that the doctors didn't really know what they were doing, because 'they weren't doctors,' he reminds himself. They were teenagers. Fucking teenagers, who probably just returned from The Blip, like they did.

The first teenager—who was presumably the older of the two—nods. "Yeah!" he cheers, as he looks up from his tablet, his brown eyes shining with excitement. "Superheroes, too, y'know, but mainly doctors. Isn't that cool? Helen came and offered us jobs when Mighty Med got burned down by Roman and Riker."

Ned blinks, slow but long, before finally finding his voice. "Wait, what?" he asks. "What is Mighty Med? And who are Roman and Riker?"

"Shapeshifters," the other doctor answers, as he inserts the blood into a vacutainer tube. He looks like he's the younger, but more serious of the two, with his light-brown hair and blue eyes that are clouded with annoyance and curiosity. "And Mighty Med was the hospital we worked at. Not that we were supposed to tell anyone about it." He shoots a glare over to his co-worker.

Kaz just shrugs, and turns to face Ned, seemingly oblivious to the angry response from his best friend. "Helen said we weren't supposed to tell anyone." He rolls his eyes. "Whatever that means."

Oliver sets the vial of blood aside, and rubs his hands over his face, exasperated. "It means," he says, slowly, "what it means! We're not supposed to tell anyone, Kaz!"

"Oh, whatever." Kaz makes a gesture of casually waving the issue away, and turns to Ned again. "You can keep a secret, right?"

"Uh..." Ned swallows, unsure, but nods nonetheless. "Yeah," he replies. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, I already know about Peter being Spider-Man."

"Then it's settled!" Kaz grins excitedly. "Ned can know, he can keep a secret."

Oliver sighs and looks at the two boys, though Ned has no idea how either of them knew his name. "Fine," he agrees, before walking out of the room. "But, if anyone asks, I had _nothing_ to do with this."

* * *

"How is he?" Ned questions, a little over an hour later, as he steps into his friend's hospital room. As soon as he makes it past the threshold, he takes a moment to softly close the door behind him, though there isn't really any need to, considering Peter is still knocked out by the anesthesia and that there is no one else in the facility, besides them and Helen's med team. "Has he woken up yet?"

May, who is sitting in one of the armchairs near Peter's bed, shakes her head, as she continues rubbing her thumb over her nephew's knuckles. Her other hand is resting in his strawberry-scented hair, brushing his curls back and forth. "Not yet," she replies, smiling sadly as she faces the boy. "Helen said he'll be out for a while, though. She gave him a lot of medicine."

Ned raises an eyebrow, and takes a seat beside the woman, as he watches the superhero's chest rise and fall in an even rhythm. The gash on the right side of Peter's head had been stitched up (he needed ten of them) and he was breathing now, with a ventilator, but, still, it's something. "Like what?" he asks.

"Diazepam," May lists, as she motioned to the teenager's multiple IVs, "and something called magnesium sulfate and calcium gluconate. I don't really know what it's supposed to do, but I know the diazepam is supposed to control his seizures and help him sleep."

"Actually, the magnesium sulfate and calcium gluconate are supposed to help with stabilizing the cardiac membrane," Helen supplies, while she walks into the room. Immediately, May and Ned turn to look at her, but she pays no attention to it. "How's my favourite patient doing? Any improvements yet?"

May shakes her head again, and let the sound of the ventilator fill the air for a moment. "No," she speaks, looking up at the Korean doctor hopefully. "But, you said that's good, right?"

"I did." Helen nods and adjusts one of the IV bags, before she takes a seat on a stool across from the two. "But, checking on my patient is not the only reason why I'm here. I also have some news for you two."

Ned scrunches his eyebrows, confused. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "About what?" he prompts.

Helen decides not to beat around the bush. "Peter," she states, as she handed over a tablet. "Happy did some digging, and managed to find the guy who poisoned him. His name is Kris Keating—" She turns to May. "He lives in your apartment building, and, after comparing some data with F.R.I.D.A.Y, we are now ninety-nine percent sure that the poison he contaminated Peter's candy with is something called Endosulfan. It's an acaricide."

"Acaricide." Ned repeats the familiar-sounding word, before it dawns on him. "Wait, isn't that for spiders?"

"Mostly mites and ticks," Helen corrects, as she stands up. "But, yes. However, there is no need to worry, as Happy has already gone to confront him, and I've made sure my assistants have contacted the NYPD. Considering that Keating doesn't even know we're on to him, I think it's safe to say he should be arrested fairly soon."

"Thank God," May mutters, as she casts a worrying look over in Peter's direction.

Now all they have to do is wait for him to wake up.

* * *

By the time Peter finally begins to come to, it's around five in the morning, and Ned doesn't even realize it until he hears a low groan.

"Peter?" he calls out, quietly but excitedly, as he rises from the armchair May was just previously sitting in. Shuffling into his friend's line of sight, he watches as Peter's bronze eyes struggle to open, and offers him a small smile when they do. "Hey, man," he asks, "how much do you remember?"

"Uh..." Peter stops and pauses. Then, he blinks, once, twice, three times, before squinting at a headache behind his eyes, and trying to recollect his memories. "Not a lot," he answers, at last. "Just bein' sick. Throwin' up 'nd stuff. S'thing 'bout not wanting to wake May."

"Yeah." Ned nods, before pouring a glass of water from the pitcher on the night stand, and giving it to his best friend. In response, Peter takes it, clumsily but gratefully, and Ned watches as he carefully sips at it. "Someone tainted your Halloween candy, and made you sick and stuff," he explains. "You're in a private hospital. Have been since last night."

Setting the half-empty glass on the table, Peter nods and blinks, still trying to get rid of his threatening headache. Then, he leans back against his massive mountain of pillows, and tries his best to hold back a yawn. "What—What 'bout May?" he questions, his voice sounding harsh and raspy, from both disuse and the nasal cannula.

"She's in the other room, sleeping with Happy. She was in here until two hours ago, give or take, but he convinced her to go to bed, and I took over once she laid down," Ned expresses, noticing Peter was still blinking rapidly. "What about you, though?" he asks. "You good?"

"Yeah," Peter reassures his best friend, before putting his head in his hands. "Just t'red. And he'd still hurts. Th'nk I might try and go back to sleep."

"Alright." Ned nods, and helps Peter adjust the bed back into a comfortable position. Once that's done, he then takes a seat in the chair nearby, and curls up in it. "See you in a couple of hours, man."

* * *

"Ned?" Helen calls out, three days later, as the kid in question helps his friend into a nearby wheelchair. In response, both boys turn around and look up at her, but Helen only focuses on the one she was wanting to talk to. "Could I speak with you, please?

Ned looks as confused as Peter, if not more, but nods anyway, and follows the doctor down the hall. "So, what's wrong?" he asks, once they stop walking. "Is everything okay?"

Helen nods, and offers the boy a kind smile. "Everything's perfectly fine," she reassures him, deciding it's best to be direct. "The reason why I wanted to talk to you is actually because I'm interested in offering you an internship."

"An internship?" Ned repeats the words, his eyes surprised, and his tone conveying shock. "Wait, what? Why?"

"Because," Helen explains, calmly, "during the the time you were here, you displayed an extraordinary amount of medical knowledge—"

Ned shrugs. "I mean, it's not really a big deal," he admits. "My parents are doctors, so..."

"And May is a nurse," she cuts in. "But, we're not talking about them, are we?"

Ned falls silent.

"Anyway," Helen continues, "aside from an extraordinary amount of medical knowledge, you also demonstrated intense loyalty to Peter, while he was here—"

"He's my best friend," Ned says. "He would do the same for me."

Helen just ignores him, this time. "Plus, not only that, but I've heard you're really good with computers. Pepper has personally told me about the time you hacked into Peter's suit and disabled his Training Wheels protocol."

"To be fair," Ned protests again, "Peter asked me to do that. I didn't do it on my own."

Helen ignores him again, having had enough of the interrupting. "I know we mostly focus on medical stuff here, but you really know your things, Ned; and it'd be a real disappointment to see a talented mind like yours go to waste."

"What about school?" Ned asks. "I have decathlon practice, from three to five, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."

"Then it'll be twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from three to six. On Tuesdays, you'll spend the evening here, studying under me, Kaz, and Oliver, and, on Thursdays, you'll work with Bruce, so you can see the science-y side of things. What do you think?"

Ned takes a deep breath, and stops, and pauses. On one hand, he's always wanted to meet, nevermind work, with the Bruce Banner, but he also wants to be able to have some time to himseafter school. And, not only that, but does he really want to spend three hours with Kaz and Oliver each week, when there's the possibility he'll never have to see them again?

"I don't know," he says, at last. "Is it okay if I think about it?"

Helen nods, her tone understanding. "Of course," she answers. "Just come find us if you're interested, alright? You know where we'll be."

And, later on, when Peter's back at home, back in his bed, resting and eating pumpkin-spice Oikos yogurt (because he still can't stomach solid foods), Ned'll tell him about it, and Peter will tell him that he's crazy for not accepting the offer right then and there (because, "Seriously, dude?! Bruce will love you!").

But, to Ned? It doesn't matter, because he has friends, and family, and people who care about him, and that's way better than any internship.

He has no doubts about it.

* * *

**Kaz and Oliver are from a Disney show that premiered back in 2015, I think, called "Mighty Med." I'm also open to requests if anyone has any.**


End file.
